


Why We Don't Get Drunk

by Angie13



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:21:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27949736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angie13/pseuds/Angie13
Summary: So the Apocalypse is coming... At least two entities are not at all particularly pleased.
Kudos: 1





	Why We Don't Get Drunk

**Author's Note:**

> A silly little thing to make KannaOphelia smile

“Well, I don’t want it to happen at all.”

“Why not? I thought this was all the idea of your side. You are the violent ones, after all.”

“Oh, are we now? Last I checked, your lot was waving around the flaming swords and all well before Morningstar did his little disobedient act.”

“Or before you did yours.”

“Now you’re just getting nasty. You know that I just hung with the wrong crowd. Not all of us were so lucky to be given important duties and responsibilities.”

“Perhaps if you had showed a bit more upright-ness…”

“Perhaps if you removed the feathers from your arse…”

A long pause and the two men-shaped creatures sat back in their respective chairs with long, hang-dog expressions. One of them rotated the wineglass in his hand, suddenly fascinated with the red drops of wine collecting at the bottom of it. The other reached up to remove a pair of stylish sunglasses and lay a long-fingered hand over his eyes instead. Minutes dragged by, tick tocking towards eternity.

Which they were both painfully aware had become a lot less far away and a lot more around the bend.

One of them sighed. The other replied with a faint, polite cough.

“Look, I’m sorry. I think I’m piss drunk… Or just pissed.”

“No, no. My fault as well. Those were some awfully low blows.”

“But, you know, fair enough. It isn’t like you’re capable of going about and telling untruths. Honestly, though… Do you want it to end?”

“Of course not… Do you?”

“No.” Another lengthy pause, an inhalation, and then… “So how do we stop it?”


End file.
